The air within the chamber had grown heavy under the weight of ancient memories and stern restrictions.
Astria adjusted her velvet sleeves, her voice carrying both the authority of a Queen and the underlying anxiety of a guardian as she looked into Len's deep, enigmatic eyes.
"My Uncle is waiting for you just outside the main palace courtyard," Astria stated, gesturing toward the tall windows where the pale light of the afternoon filtered through.
"He will be right there below. As soon as you leave this room, go directly to him. He is a man of rigid punctuality; he does not care for waiting."
Len offered a curt nod. "Fine," he said in a flat, emotionless tone.
Before Astria could utter another syllable, he slid off the sofa with a sudden, fluid grace, clutching his heavy tome against his side.
He began to stride toward the massive oak doors with a hurried urgency.
As if desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the room and the relentless questions of the Queen.
But just as his small fingers reached for the intricately carved brass handle, he felt a silken yet firm grip tighten upon his shoulder.
Astria pulled him back with a swift, decisive motion. There was no anger in her hold, but a strange, intuitive shudder.
She looked closely at Len's face—fine traces of dry forest soil still clung to his cheeks.
And his clothes carried the sharp, damp scent of wild flowers and morning dew from the woods where he had wandered.
"What is this sudden haste?" Astria sharpened her tone, though the lingering confusion remained etched in her eyes.
She scrutinized him before guiding him away from the door and pointing toward the inner sanctum of the suite.
"First, you will wash the dust and the scent of the wild from your body. Go inside... bathe properly."
"Only when you are clean and presented as a noble of this house will you stand before my Uncle."
"There will be no compromise on the dignity and cleanliness of this palace."
Len looked at the closed door for a heartbeat, then at Astria's unwavering gaze.
He tightened his grip on his book and, without a single word of protest, turned toward the bathing chambers.
Where the steam of heated water and rose essence already drifted through the air.
The interior of the bathing chamber resembled an ancient grotto.
Where the light from torches hanging from vaulted ceilings struck sapphires embedded in the walls, scattering a celestial blue glow.
In the center of the room lay the 'Raj-Kund'—a massive pool carved from pure white marble, its edges adorned with intricately engraved golden fish.
Saffron-scented steam rose from the heated water, drifting through the air like a mystical fog.
Without wasting a heartbeat, Len placed his heavy tome upon a high stone pedestal and slid into the lukewarm water with fluid speed.
Ripples broke against his small shoulders, and within moments, he washed away the fine forest silt from his skin.
His haste was such that it seemed every drop of water was a barrier keeping him from the Uncle.
Within minutes, he emerged from the pool, the water dripping from his form scattering across the marble floor like liquid pearls.
As he climbed the marble steps, the realization of his oversight struck him like a cold draft.
Standing bare and drenched, he froze—he had forgotten to bring his fresh attire.
His gaze darted around the chamber before settling on a soft, white silk towel draped over a nearby carved stand.
He snatched the supple fabric and wrapped it tightly around his small frame.
Parting the heavy velvet curtains, he moved toward the massive oak door of the main bedroom on tip-toe.
He peered through the slight crack of the doorway, his wide eyes scanning the hallway to see if the path was clear.
"What exactly do you think you are doing?" Suddenly, Astria's voice resonated from the shadows of the right wall.
She was standing directly beside the door, her arms crossed over her chest, a look of playful yet stern inquiry in her eyes.
Len's entire body turned to stone for a heartbeat. The sudden intrusion of her voice had startled him completely.
He recoiled slightly in a flurry of movement, his damp hair falling over his brow.
Grabbing his towel with renewed ferocity, he asked in a voice laced with startled panic: "You... what are you doing here?"
His voice betrayed a mix of childish annoyance and the fear of being caught.
While Astria stood there calmly watching him, as if she had known all along that this little boy, in his frantic hurry, would leave something behind.
"What exactly are you doing behind that door, Len?"
Astria's voice carried a suppressed resonance, as if she had already anticipated this very scene.
Len's small face, which had been peering through the crevice of the door, retracted in a sudden blur.
The heavy oak door slammed shut with a dull thud, followed by the faint click of the latch.
From the other side, Len's voice emerged as a stifled whisper, stumbling under the weight of sheer fluster.
"I-I... I forgot my c-clothes... back inside," Len stuttered.
The 'Young Lord's' arrogant poise had completely evaporated, replaced by the raw, endearing embarrassment of a small child.
Astria pressed her lips together firmly. A laugh bubbled within her chest, desperate to break free.
She turned her face away, taking a sharp breath to regain her composure. Maintaining her regal gravity, she cleared her throat.
"Fine, do not worry. I am bringing them now," she said in a calm tone, though the mischievous glint in her eyes remained.
Astria turned and moved toward the far corner of the suite, where the massive Royal Wardrobe stood embedded within the wall.
She slowly pulled open its heavy panels, the hinges emitting a faint, rhythmic creak.
A scent of sandalwood and dried blossoms wafted from the interior.
She reached toward the lower drawers, pulling out a set of silk black tunics and silver-embroidered trousers that had been folded with meticulous care.
The fabric felt like butter against her palms. Carrying the attire, she returned to the door.
This time, she did not stand directly in front of it. Instead, she leaned her back against the wall beside the frame.
She extended her hand toward the center of the doorway, as if offering a gift from behind an invisible barrier.
"Here, I have brought your clothes," she said, keeping her palm steady. A slight rustle came from within.
The door creaked open just an inch, and Len's small hand darted out with the speed of a lightning strike.
He snatched the garments inside, and the door slammed shut just as violently as before.
Astria smiled softly and stepped away from the door, moving toward the vast royal bed in the center of the room.
She sat down gracefully upon the silken covers, but her mind was not on the room's decor.
Before her eyes, she kept seeing Len's startled face. Astria let out a faint, airy sigh as she looked toward the window.
She kept thinking that the small child who, just a short while ago, had looked at her with such cold eyes.
Could be so thoroughly unnerved by such a simple thing—just like a little boy.
This realization filled a corner of her heart with an unknown, grounded warmth.